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One Clean Stab & A Handshake With My Ex-Husband
publish date:
2026-07-07 16:49:17
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Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi thank you, darling, now step aside
“I can handle my own company, Rafael.”“No one said you couldn't.”“Great. Then this conversation is over.”I turned toward the stairs with my laptop tucked under my arm, leaving my husband in the sitting area before he could come up with another explanation for why every problem in my life required Ricciardi intervention.Unfortunately, fifteen minutes later, while I was standing in the middle of the walk-in closet looking for the black blazer I'd seen on the left rack earlier, Rafael appeared in the doorway.Well, he had an extraordinary talent for showing up right when I was starting to enjoy his absence.“Where are you going?”I turned, still holding two hangers. “Disneyland.”Rafael glanced at the laptop bag on the ottoman, then at the charcoal pencil skirt I'd just taken out. “Dressed like that?”“Corporate Disneyland. There are spreadsheets and people who could lose their jobs.”He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. His black T-shirt had been replaced by a white button-
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi a little history, a little forgery
I picked up my phone from the counter and opened an old photo album I'd kept for years. There were thousands of pictures in there, organized by year, from two babies who barely had any hair to the two little terrorists currently arguing over whether whipped cream could be used as a hair product.I found the hospital picture.On the screen, I was lying in a hospital bed with messy black hair, a pale face, exhausted eyes, and two tiny babies wrapped in white blankets against my chest.Jesus.I really looked like I'd just given birth to two human beings.Oh, wait.I had just given birth to two human beings.“Here.” I handed Rafael my phone. “No comments about my hair. I'd just gone through childbirth, and I'm not accepting beauty criticism.”Rafael took it.He studied the picture for so long that Al started trying to steal the last of Gabby's whipped cream with the tip of his plastic shark.“Alvaro, no.”“But shark hungry.”“Your shark literally just had breakfast with us.”Rafael zoomed
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi a little too much like a family
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that Rafael was no longer in bed.The second was that the pillow I'd designated as an international border last night was now lying on the floor beside the bed, while most of my duvet had somehow migrated to the side where he'd been sleeping.I lifted my head off the pillow and surveyed the crime scene.Interesting.There was an indentation on Rafael's pillow, slightly rumpled sheets in the middle, and one corner of the duvet hanging so low it almost touched the carpet. No signs of a struggle, although I was fairly certain someone had violated my territorial sovereignty while I was asleep.I pulled back what was left of my duvet and checked the clock on the nightstand.7:42.Way too early to launch an international investigation, especially without coffee.I decided all evidence would be considered inadmissible until someone produced CCTV footage showing who had actually crossed the border first. Considering Rafael had a security system tha
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi until the next wave comes
I suddenly found myself thinking about four birthdays, the nights when one of the kids had a fever, the first pair of shoes I'd picked out for them myself, and the time Al cried because his haircut made his ears look too big.All of it had happened without Rafael. And now he had to piece it all together, one story at a time, from other people.I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the pillow and let out a quiet breath. “You don't have to learn everything tonight.”“I know.”“Because they're not going to stop giving you new material tomorrow.”“I know that too.”“Gabby will probably make you sign a contract to become her tour manager before breakfast.”“I'll have legal review it.”I snorted.He smiled, and his gaze dropped briefly to my mouth.He leaned a little closer, and I immediately reached out and pushed his face away with my palm.“No.”Rafael stopped, his cheek pressed against my hand, before lifting his eyes to mine again. “You don't even know what I was going to do.”“I know.”
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi it's a long day
The bed was big.Big enough for three adults to sleep without touching each other.And because I’m a rational, mature adult who knew how to resolve conflicts through diplomatic channels, I took one of the long pillows from behind the headboard and placed it down the middle.Rafael looked at the pillow. “What's that?”“A border.”He raised an eyebrow.“International border,” I explained, adjusting the pillow. “This side is the Republic of Arabella. That side is Italian dictator territory. No crossing without a visa.”Rafael studied the pillow for a few seconds, then nodded. “All right.”I blinked. “All right?” I repeated.“Yeah.”I narrowed my eyes. “You're agreeing way too easily.”“Would you prefer an argument?”“No.”“Then?”“I don't trust a man who voluntarily respects international borders after spending the entire day staging a hostile takeover of my living arrangements.”Rafael shifted farther onto his side, leaving a generous amount of space between us. “Go to sleep, Ara.”I ga
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi a little less trust, a little more trouble
By the time I made it back downstairs, someone had already cleaned up the kitchen. The lights beneath the cabinets were still on, casting a warm glow over the stone countertops, and beyond the glass wall, the Pacific was almost completely black except for a few distant security lights.I poured myself some water and grabbed my handbag from beside the island, digging past my lip balm, a hair tie, and the usual collection of medications until I found the little pouch I was looking for.My B-complex vitamins were in there, along with a small box I'd picked up this morning to office, back when I still thought I'd have a relatively normal day instead of evacuating my entire family with enough armed security to invade a small country.I pulled it out and looked at the label.Emergency contraception. Oh, right. There was still the small matter of what Rafael and I had done last night.There were certain decisions that made perfect sense when Rafael Ricciardi was on top of me, and almost all
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi Glass Mansion, Soft Monsters
Five Years Later.“AL, STOP PULLING MY HAIR, I’M A PRINCESS!”“UGLY PRINCESS!”Something small, warm, and heavy slammed into my waist. Then something else landed on my stomach. I didn’t wake up because of an alarm, but because two tiny bodies decided I was their personal playground.“Oh God,” I ras
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi Sunlight and Divorce Papers
I woke up because the sun slapped me in the face. White-gold light speared through the thin curtains, landing directly on my eyelids that had never volunteered to become solar panels. I blinked slowly, trying to gather the pieces of my soul scattered across the sheets.The clock on the nightstand r
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi He Never Chose Me
“Wow,” I said at last, closing the door behind me with a soft click. “I thought you were still busy having a reunion with your ex.”His gaze dropped for a second, traveling down my body. From the thin heels, to my bare legs, to where the dress cinched at my waist, to the neckline that was bold enou
Second Time, Mrs. Ricciardi Platinum Barbie
Seven p.m., and Lake Como looked like an expensive postcard that had been photographed to death. Deep blue, almost black. Villa lights scattered messily across the water. A thin veil of fog hovering low, like a cheap Instagram filter no one bothered to turn off.From the study window facing the lak
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